


Who Da Bes?

by siltscribe



Category: Rover Red: Alone in Apocalypse (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 08:42:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12577992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siltscribe/pseuds/siltscribe
Summary: Loosely based on true events.Sadly ...





	Who Da Bes?

**Author's Note:**

> This is an interactive work! 
> 
> Put the following on repeat as you read. Set it to loop so you hear it over, and over and over and over and .....
> 
>  
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ZVUyyHYkBHk

“Allright Braddick, lets see what you've got to say.” 

Cara walked back to her desk, water in hand. The rest of the Rover Fortress was quiet, save for the faint buzzing of the lights. It was just after 6 pm, and most of the Council was probably just waking up. 

She'd slept in her office last night, rather than in her quarters down on the first floor. Despite being here for about two months, she hadn't managed to unpack completely, and the clutter of her room wasn't the conducive to thinking. 

Or video chatting. 

Powering her lightscreen on, she tucked her feet under her in her chair. The boss has requested a video conference with her first thing today. She wasn't entirely clear on the details; but the short of it was that someone had been leaving anonymously written stories scattered around the office, she thought? 

No, she corrected herself. Not just stories. _Explicit_ stories about various prominent figures in Apocalypse. She didn't know details, but the office had been buzzing about it nonstop. From what she heard, it had started a month or so before she was hired. Stories would be posted chapter by chapter, in the most bizarre of places. Cabinets, supply drawers -- one time a chapter had been folded in a neat square and nestled in with the coffee grounds! No one knew who the author was, but it had to be an employee. 

Which, means that eventually the boss was bound to find out. Only, Cara thought with a smirk, she hadn't thought it would have taken him this long to notice. But, then again, she was starting to realize why there were so many jokes around the office about Braddick. 

Making a note of the flashing mailbox notification, she tapped a few buttons to initiate the video call, and immediately had to try her best not to laugh. Braddock was flitting about his top floor quarters in what looked like the robes religious leaders used to wear before the First Bloom, and a pair of brightly colored shoes that.. well; they didn’t look like any sort of shoes she’d ever encountered in Apocalypse. They seemed lightweight, and were covered in holes. _Definetly_ not compatible with the typical Rover way of life. 

Then again, Braddick didn't seem too typical. 

He seemed determined to finish redecorating his space during the conference, so Cara sat back and scribbled down notes as he prattled on about the “propaganda”, as he had taken to calling it. She mumbled a reply here and there, to make sure he knew that yes, she was listening. 

After about an hour, to Cara’s relief, he'd finally gotten past the decor, and around to the bulk of the issue. 

“Of course. Yes, yes, tawdry. Inappropriate. I-- Joelene? And Ri-- Goodness. Yes, ah…no. Of course. Utmost secrecy, I understand. No, no. I mean, it's not good- but I hardly think some office gossip is going to contribute to a wa--- Yes sir. I know. That's why I'm not the boss. I… what? No. I think it's fine. Maybe a little to the left? Wonderful. Okay… listen. I need - yes, lots of work, sir. Thank you.” 

Sighing, she jabbed her finger at the screen, ending the call. That man gave her a headache. How in the name of Speaker Prime had he been put in charge?! Sure, she’d heard awful things about his predecessor, but from what she’d heard, he at least knew how to carry himself and … well, function as a high ranking officer of the Rover Fortress should. 

The young woman tucked a stray braid behind her ear, before reopening her device. Propaganda aside, things had been fairly calm lately, but the multiple messages worried her. Several messages in quick succession was rarely a good thing. 

She held her breath as she tapped the icon that was remiscent of an envelope, praying nothing was on fire. 

_Cara-  
Ummmm- idk if you know about this or not but shit's going the silt down-- can you do something about it?  
\--Jason _

_hi there!  
i just wanted to say how much i appreciate you, i’m sure you hear a ton of complaints. you’re so good at your job… and i’m sure anyone who does such an amazing job as you would **definitely** be on top of whatever noisy chaos is going down by the elevator. i can only assume that this will be rectified immediately? were it not, I would reconsider my decision not to immediately complain to everyone I know- and upper management about how bad you are. but that won't happen, because this is surely a temporary mistake.   
-sera_

The intercom in the office crackled to life , pulling the woman's attention away from her lightscreen. 

“Cara? It appears there's some sort of disturbance going on in the elevator ? I -”

Steepling her hands, Cara bowed her head, letting her forehead rest on the tips. “Thanks, E.V.i.E. I know…and so does half the Council, apparently..”

“I am unsure, if half the Council actually knows, Cara. But if you don't do something about it, the entire Council will know about it.” 

Cara waved her off, as if the AI could see her. Which, it very well could. E.V.i.E. had access to the intercoms, she had no reason to believe E.V.i.E. couldn't monitor the security system as well. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just let me make sure I know what's going on. Then I'll be on it.” 

“Fine. Have it your way.” 

The intercom crackled off, and Cara shook her head. She still couldn't get used to an artificial intelligence holding a conversation with her. It was easy to forget that she--it was a machine. She seemed so real. 

_Cara-  
Look. Don't freak out. Sid’s on a trip. Cerberus did a thing, and then Sid did a thing, and now there's a ton of people…. But it'll be allright, I… just maybe let it play out?  
-Tina _

_Hey.  
They’re having a damn singalong, Cara. A silting singalong. Get on that, please. Before Pope gets wind and decides to act like he runs the place.   
Oh, wait. . .   
-E_

_Dude.  
My kids are walking around mumbling “I’m Da Bes . You aren't da bes.” What's going on? How do I stop it? Please. Basic grammar is dying, and I beg of you, help …   
-Sprocks._

 

Swiping across the screen, Cara closed the window, and took a deep breath. She'd hoped for an uneventful day, but that didn't seem to be in the cards. It did, however, spare her the impossible task Braddick had asked of her. She doubted she’d have any luck finding the mysterious propaganda author; especially if the whole office seemed to support them. Braddick would just have to ignore it.

She heard the music echoing down the hall before she actually made it to the elevator. If, she thought with a laugh; you could call it that. There didn't seem to be any actual music involved, but it reminded her of when Sprocket led the daycare kids in singalongs. Several voices, some were on key, some … were not. The only immediately discernible difference she noted between this and what the kids did, was _volume_. Not looking forward to this in the least, she pressed the call button on the elevator and waited. 

She didn’t wait long - she guessed, because the bulk of the Council was avoiding this area like it was a silt field. The doors slid open, and she walked in, wincing at the sudden onslaught that met her ears. 

“DON”T WORRY! YOU’LL GET USED TO IT!” 

A girl with half of her head shaved grinned at her from across the elevator. She was sitting next to two other people (wait, were they _sharing a sweater?)_ , and seemed to have positioned herself on the outer edges of all the chaos. She waved excitedly, and patted the floor next to her. 

She grinned, appreciative of the sentiment, but doubting it’s accuracy. She decided to take the invitation though. She worked her way across the elevator, carefully stepping around the group of people who were sing-yelling at each other. She set her lightscreen on the floor before sliding down the wall to have a seat. 

Boy, was this a sight. There were about 6 people standing in a sort of circle, from various departments. Someone had set their lightscreen to play music - or as she’d soon discover, _just the one song_ \- and had set it to loop. She recognized Sid, the resident wildcard standing near the middle of the group. They, along with another guy she didn’t know seemed to be the two who were most excited about today’s events. The others seemed to be enjoying themselves, sure; but a few seemed to be there out of sheer spite. 

The group tapered off near where she was sitting, thankfully. She was happy to have a little space between her and the noise. (Even though in such a small space, it didn’t make much of a difference.)

“There were more people earlier,” her new friend pointed out, indicating the apparently dwindling group. Most of them left around twenty minutes in when they realized he wasn’t kidding. People stopped getting on the elevator around an hour and a half ago? I guess word finally got around about this.” The girl beamed, popping a cheeto into her mouth. She offered one to Cara, but she declined. “I mean, I honestly can't remember if it was his idea or Sid’s, but… I don't know how much that matters at this point.”

The “he” she referred to was sitting at the edge of the circle of people, cracking jokes and seeming enjoying the chaos. It was a little odd, though. He wore the same sweater as her new friend did, and; at a second glance, as the woman attempting to nap in between them. 

On further examination, she realized they weren't just matching sweaters, it was literally the _same sweater._ Someone had gone to the trouble of knitting a giant, brightly colored sweater with three necks on it. Nonplussed, she lifted her lightscreen and snapped a quick picture. She wasn't sure what was going on there, but it wouldn't surprise her if it came up again.

Pulling out her lightscreen, she laid it across her lap, and started to tap a few notes down. “Interesting. Okay, but… who’s he?”

“Oh that’s Ch-” The girl cut herself off, shooting a wary glance at Cara. “It’s my other head? Right! That’s, _we’re_ Cerberus.” She nodded firmly, as if to confirm the ridiculous claim. 

_Cerberus?_ The look on her face must have given her away, because the girl shook her head. “Yeah! Like that three headed dog in the myths, or whatever.” 

“Right.” 

Her voice was calm, but Cara was anything but. The girl she was talking to - who hadn't offered a name other than one that most definitely didn't belong to her. She'd heard that name before. Well, _overheard_ was more accurate, if she was being honest.

Apparently, Cerberus lived in the elevator. Like, actually physically lived in the elevator. She hadn’t heard details, but the prevailing rumor was that Sid was somehow responsible. 

They were quite a sight. Today, they wore a plain white shirt, and shiny gold hot pants. It offset their neon red hair, that seemed to bounce along with every verse of the song. Sid was currently leaning down to where they were nose to nose with the man in the sweater with the shaved head, and they were both yelling something about chess, and arthritis? She didn’t really follow. They were into it though.

Sighing, she snapped a few more pictures of the crowd, then set the device next to her on the floor. She closed her eyes, and let her head rest against the wall for a moment. It looked to be a long day. 

Shifting her weight to one side, she leaned in to the girl who had greeted her, otherwise known to the Council as Cerberus’ third head. “So, number three. Why don’t you tell me a little more about how you got here?”

~~~  
Tapping her lightscreen for what felt like the millionth time that day, Cara groaned. She was still seated cross-legged on the floor, just as she had been here for nearly three hours. Head #3 had been right, not a single Council member had boarded the elevator in that time. Plenty had left though. One after another had admitted defeat, and headed back to work. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold out, herself.

“How… how long can they possibly go on?”

No answer came, but she hadn’t expected one. She’d more wanted to hear something else besides some variation of “I’m Da Bes.” She felt Sprocket’s pain, the grammar in the song made her heart sink. No matter how entertaining the group was to watch each time the song rolled around to the beginning. 

Her new friend had gone to sleep shortly after they’d finished talking, and was resting on the shorter woman -- _head #2’s, she supposed,_ shoulder. Head #1 had held out for a long time, but had ultimately fallen asleep as well. The only two people left awake in the elevator besides her, were Sid, and the man she’d seen with them in the middle of the group when she'd first shown up.

Since that time, she'd learned several things. His name was Nick, he was a new employee, he was _super cute_ and he was somehow Sid’s son. She assumed Head #3 hadn't meant he was his literal son, since the two seemed close in age, but she hadn't asked. She'd also learned that there was some form of a romance happening between him and her new friend. Though, things had hit a rocky patch the other day. Something to do with bees. Again, she had decided it was better not to ask. 

Thankful the wall was there to hold her up, she watched the two last Council members through half lidded eyes. They were circling each other, and yelling the lyrics at each other. She wasn't entirely sure, but the last couple of rounds, she thought they'd made up their own lyrics. Something about ducks, and bees, and who knows what else. Truth be told, she might have just been imagining it. She wasn't even sure why she was still here. She’d known the minute she'd set foot in the elevator that she wasn't going to be able to put a stop to whatever was happening. Instead; she'd opted for careful surveillance. That, and an official memo to all Council members that it would be in their best interests to avoid the elevator until further notice. Braddick would have to be satisfied with that. 

She was so tired, she almost didn't hear the chime of the elevator before the doors opened. And that would have been a shame. At this point, any sounds that weren’t the musical stylings of GMCFOSHO made her heart soar. A little over an hour ago, she'd started singing nonsense songs that she’d been taught as a child, but after several dirty looks, she'd given that up too. 

When the door opened, Tina, Sid’s coworker walked in, balancing a tray of drinks in her hands. It seemed like a normal routine for her, as she started distributing drinks to the elevators occupants. 

When she got to Cerberus, she simply sat the drinks down on the floor next to them. She hadn't noticed Cara yet. 

_“You.”_

It wasn't much, but it was all she could be bothered to muster. The look on Tina’s face told her she'd at least worked the correct amount of disdain into the word. 

“Me?” 

She looked genuinely shocked to be spoken to in such a tone. Cara didn't feel bad though. If anything, she blamed Tina for this whole mess. “Let it play out,” the email had read. “It's fine,” she'd said. 

Fact of the matter is, it wasn't fine. It quit being fine when she'd caught herself humming along to the song. It had left fine in the dust when she realized she had the lyrics more or less memorized. For all she knew, it might never be fine again. 

Or maybe she just needed a nap. It was hard to say at the moment. 

Tina looked a little worried, but didn't answer. She probably (correctly) assumed it wouldn't do any good. Instead, she kneeled down, and set her own coffee on the floor next to Cara, patting her on the top of her head. 

“Alright then. Time to go.” 

Neither Sid nor Nick paid her any mind. They kept dancing, or whatever you'd call what they were doing. 

Cara grabbed the coffee off the floor and took a swig before Tina could change her mind. Soy wasn't her favorite, but desperate times and all. 

She sipped the coffee and watched as the purple haired woman, apparently tired of waiting, grabbed Sid by the elbow and started to haul them out of the elevator, mumbling something about a vote. 

And just like that, it was over. Sid put up somewhat of a fight, and yelled a few things that she hadn't quite made out. Now, it was just her, the sleeping Cerberus, and Nick, who had just realized he'd won. 

The victory dance was the best thing she'd seen all day. She was exhausted, but managed to lift her lightscreen and record a short video of the celebratory speech, before the battery died. 

“Silt. Sorry…” 

Nick shrugged. “It's okay. I think I'm too tired for a speech anyway.” Grabbing his coffee, plus the one sitting next to Head #1, he walked over and set himself down between Cara and the girl who'd been gushing about him about an hour ago. 

They clinked their cups together in celebration. Nick, happy to have outlasted everyone (he truly was da bes), and Cara, just happy it was over.

Braddick wouldn't be pleased she hadn't made any headway on finding the mysterious propaganda writer, but she didn't care. Maybe she'd be able to convince the Council members to keep it more under the radar. It seemed an easier task than trying to find the person responsible. They could be anywhere. Or anyone, for that matter. It's not like they were going to waltz into the elevator with her and start rapping. I mean, it would be nice, but she wouldn't kid herself. It would never be that easy. 

To her right, Nick’s victory buzz hadn't lasted long. He'd curled up around Head #3, had started lightly snoring. For a moment, she wondered how that relationship was going to work out with the current situation. 

But that was a problem she could tackle another day. For now, she felt like she'd done enough. She was exhausted. Maybe everyone else had the right idea, and a nap was in order. I mean, she had sent out that memo earlier about avoiding the elevator? She doubted anyone would be around for at least a little while today. 

Not wasting another minute on the decision, she whipped off her jacket, and folded it in the general shape of a pillow. It was nap time. Work, and the rest of the Council could wait. She stretched out across the empty floor of the elevator, and turned over onto her side, humming to herself as she drifted off.


End file.
